


More Loving One

by The_Strongest_Hero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hidden Relationship, M/M, Shower Sex, romance is just saying each others name, the rest of the team is there but they aren't relevant to Keith's journey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28392108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Strongest_Hero/pseuds/The_Strongest_Hero
Summary: Love in war is less than ideal. Worse still is having to hide it.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	More Loving One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Articianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Articianne/gifts).



The air on the castle ship is just cold enough to be uncomfortable by human standards. Keith, born and bred under the harsh desert sun, finds it as unfamiliar as he does intolerable. He's grateful for his gloves, though he's becoming used to the persistent numbness in his fingertips.

They’re gathered in the bridge of the castle, looking over a projected map that details locations of resistance activity. They’re trying to decide where Voltron will be most helpful, and which planets have enough firepower to put up a worthy fight.

The discussion exhausts Keith. He’s never been one for tactical planning, because the idea of passing over helping the people who need them the most to go to the aid of those who are better equipped, who have a more strategically located planet, turns his stomach. He can understand the logic of it, but it still feels wrong. He looks at Elscine, a tiny planet located just along the outer reaches of a heavily galra galaxy. The resistance there will likely be crushed quickly and mercilessly. Even if Voltron went to their aid, they would likely be overcome by empire forces, and even if they managed to steal a victory it would only result in harsher retaliation once they left.

It still feels wrong. Keith has been tapped out of the discussion for some time. A glance around the room shows that it’s really only Allura, Coran, and Shiro still debating optimal routes and plans of attack. Lance is playing some kind of tagging game with the mice along the edge of the table, and Pidge and Hunk have their heads bent over a wreck of coils and gears cradled in Pidge’s hands.

Keith knows crossing his arms will make him look surly, but his fingers are ice and the throbbing behind his eyes only worsens the longer he stares into the projection.

A hand brushes against the back of his own and a set or warm, thick fingers tangle with his, squeezing for a brief moment before letting go.

Keith doesn’t need to know about love to know looking at Shiro makes him feel like he’s on fire. He feels like a comet, streaking across the sky until he was caught in Shiro’s gravity, pulled in to orbit him like a loyal moon. Or Shiro is the sun and Keith is a plant turning always to face his radiant light.

When he glances over Shiro seems to be deeply invested in plotting their course through the stars. “It makes the most sense to start with Tagazbri,” he’s saying. “That will give us a foothold in blocking this sector off from the empire. From there if we can manage to get Isroj to rally on our side we can cripple their supply chain coming from the Thrombuj galaxy.” He rests a palm, warm against Keith’s lower back, hidden from view by the high war table, as he leans in to mark the route on the map.

“Sounds like a plan Shiro.” Allura rubs her eyes tiredly. “Why don’t we get some rest, it looks like we could all use it. We can prepare to move on Tagazbri tomorrow.” Dull murmurs of assent rise up from the gathered paladins and they begin to shuffle from the room. Shiro’s hand slides from Keith as their teammates pass, but they both linger until the bridge is empty.

They fall into each other as if by gravitational pull. “God that sucked,” Shiro murmurs into Keith’s hairline.

“You could’ve had me fooled. You were great.”

“I could tell you were getting frustrated.” His hands sweep up and down Keith’s back. Keith withdraws his head from Shiro’s shoulder to look him in the eye.

“The people fighting for their freedom on Elscine are going to be pulverized.”

“I know.”

“And we’re not going to help them.”

“I know, babe.” The soothing slide of Shiro’s hands continues.

“I just-” Keith sighs heavily through his nose. He drops his forehead onto Shiro’s shoulder. “How do you deal with it? Knowing you could help and... _not_?” Shiro draws his head up and lays a kiss on his forehead before answering.

“It doesn’t get easier,” he says into Keith’s skin. “Decisions like these are one of the burdens that come with wielding a power like Voltron.”

Keith snorts. “Ok uncle Ben.” Shiro startles with a chuckle.

“Alright, alright.” They pull apart but Shiro links their fingers together. He’s smiling and Keith basks in it like sunlight. It’s a ridiculous sentiment, given that the castle has only five other occupants and they see each other every day, but Keith missed Shiro. There is a difference in the way they are in front of the others and the Shiro that unwinds for Keith alone and he feels it keenly.

Before he can open his mouth and spill out adoration Shiro swoops in for a kiss. The joining of their lips still lights a fire in him. The soft press of lips lingers. “Couldn’t help myself,” he grins, swinging their linked hands.

“You’re such a dork.” Keith is overly fond. Shiro is still smiling down at him. But responsibility wins out eventually.

“We should get some rest. Big day tomorrow.” Keith tries not to sigh. He knows Shiro is right. He draws him down for another kiss. Shiro brings his spare hand up to cradle his jaw and Keith’s own slide over his shoulders. This kiss is longer lasting than the last. Keith leans into the hard line of Shiro’s body. 

The contact is searing. They pull apart but stay in each other’s space, breath mingling between their open mouths. “Kiss for the road,” Keith murmurs. Shiro’s eyes are intense. He seems on the cusp of saying something, but then draws away, squeezing Keith’s hand tight in his grip. He draws their hands to his mouth and lays a final kiss along Keith’s knuckles.

“I love you Keith.”

“I love you.” The response is as automatic as it is genuine. Keith sometimes thinks he’s loved Shiro since before he met him. He’s so full of love for him he’s helpless with it.

At long last Shiro lets their hands fall apart. “We need to get some sleep.” Keith mourns the loss of contact, though he knows what Shiro says is true. Even if it hadn’t seemed like it Keith had paid enough attention to the meeting to know what they would be up against. 

“Wanna take a shower with me first?” Keith’s attempt to weedle for more time is completely transparent. It looks as if it costs Shiro dearly to delince.

“I don’t think we’d end up getting much rest if I went with you.” Keith can see that he’s tempted though. Before Keith can push his mouth is cracked by an enormous yawn. 

Shiro chuckles. “Okay, bedtime.” Then he too is accosted by a jaw cracking yawn. “For real.” Keith sighs and steals a last peck before they make their way off the bridge together.

Their stolen moment ends.

  
  


The battle is ugly. They knew it would be and yet they still seem to be caught off guard at the endless waves of galra cruisers. Voltron is forced to disband to try to cover the vast ground that is their battlefront and the castleship has to engage in evasive maneuvers to try to mitigate some of the heavy fire directed their way.

The Tagazbrian ships have heavy firepower but they’re slow and unwieldy trying to wend their way along the front and provide support. Next to the speed of the red lion it almost seems like they don’t move at all. Keith tries to balance preventing them from taking too much damage and causing as much of his own as he can. They could really use the juggernaut force of Voltron, but consolidating their power in one location leaves too many Tagazbrians vulnerable.

A blast ricochets into a floating asteroid, blasting it into deadly pieces that hurtle Keith’s way. He hauls on the red lion’s controls to pull her into a spine-bending turn. They are just prevented from taking the blow of the enormous chunk of space rock. He can hear the Tagazbrians groaning over the comms as their ship is bombarded with the debris. He whirls around in time to see it shudder from the impact, a larger piece of the rubble spiraling towards them.

Keith tense his hands on the controls but Red is rocked with a blast from the fleet at his back. He can’t keep both targets in sight. He rights his lion and looks up as the massive hunk of space rock hurtles towards the Tagazbrian ship. He accelerates, twisting to avoid the blows from behind. 

Red is jarred by another blast, this time from the port side. He’s taking too much fire. He’s not going to make it to the Tagazbrians before the asteroid hits. He can see the galra cruiser to his left charging up for another blast. He cuts his gaze back to the Tagazbrians. There’s not enough time-

Yellow flashes before being obscured by the asteroid as Hunk and his lion fly into place, stopping its collision course with her sturdy claws.

Keith manages a “Thanks Hunk,” before the two ships pressing in on him once again demand his attention.

“No problem buddy!” Hunk it the first of the other paladins that Keith has laid eye on in over an hour. Shiro is somewhere on the other side of the battle, drawing attention away from the civilians on Tagazbri. His commanding voice over the channel in their helmets is in equal parts reassuring and distracting.

Red’s jawblade makes short work of the ships haranguing him but more are just as quick to take their place. Keith can feel that the inside of his suit is lined with adrenaline sweat. They need to take out the carrier the ships are being launched from but it’s protected behind rows and rows of enemy crafts, hiding in the center of their formation. With every ship he blasts out of the sky it seems two more take its place. If he could just reach the carrier without leaving the Tagazbrians overly exposed...

Lance cries out over the channel and Keith is moving before he can let himself think about it. Blue is pinned against the hull of a massive galra ketch, taking fire from all angles. Red’s speed and the divided attention of the Empire ships works to their advantage, and soon Lance and his lion are spiraling through the air, whooping.

“Woohoo!” Lance hollers. “Go team Voltron!” Keith doesn’t respond. The carrier is close. 

He takes the opportunity. He’s darting around the warships lingering in the wake of Keith and Lance’s combined carnage. They bumble after him, firing on their own ships in their desperation to land a hit on Red. In spite of the mayhem around him a grin spreads across Keith’s face as he lays on the speed. When he comes up on the carrier he carves through it like butter.

After that the tide is turned in their favor. The Tagazbrians ships have advanced enough to deal devastating damage to the remaining fleets, and the Empire ships soon begin a retreat.

Keith is shaking with the vestiges of adrenaline leaving his body, but they can mark today in the win column. He glides back in the direction of the castleship.

“Good job team.” Shiro’s voice is a balm that brings a smile to Keith’s face, even if he doesn’t have a visual on Black yet. “Great teamwork today. I know we faced some unforeseen challenges, but we pulled together and now the Tagazbrians are free from the Empire’s rule. Let’s regroup at the castleship.” Keith can perfectly imagine the determined look on Shiro’s face as he gives the encouragements. It would seem cheesy if the man weren’t so genuine.

Keith is enamored.

Now that the fighting has ended, Keith has time to admire the view out of Red’s windshield. The dusky purple nebula that nestles Tagazbri is peppered with brilliant stars and icy comets that seem to reflect their light. He traces the swirling patterns with his eyes.

It’s beautiful.

“Keith.” He can tell this time that Shiro is talking only to him by the way he says his name. He notices that the other paladins have already returned to their hangars; it’s just him and Shiro hanging suspended in space.

“Shiro it’s-” There’s a swelling feeling under his breastbone at the glittering view before him. The Empire retreated, and if things continued to go well they could ensure they wouldn’t be back.

“I know Keith.” He always did. Shiro had a way of reading Keith that no one else ever seemed to manage. They sit in companionable silence, listening to each other breathe and taking in the vast beauty of the cosmos before them. Keith feels the tension in his spine start to unwind.

Eventually, wordlessly, Shiro turns towards the castleship and Keith, as always, follows.

  
  


Keith is dead on his feet. The debrief was perfunctory at best before everyone stumbled off to their quarters to recuperate. They won but it was a victory hard earned, and Keith feels the strain throughout every muscle in his body. He lets most of an hour pass lying face up on his bed and staring at the ceiling before he leaves. The path his feet tread is worn and familiar.

"Where are _you_ going?" Lance’s voice takes him by surprise. He’d been headed to Shiro's room, but he can't say that.

"Training deck."

Keith is anything but a convincing liar, but he thinks it’s a probable enough excuse. Lance is incredulous. "After today? You want to train _now_?" It’s late. What Keith wants is to rest his head on Shiro's shoulder and wrap an arm across his waist and get some sleep.

"Couldn't sleep." Keith is so tired it's like his bones are being dragged down to the floor. He could probably sleep if he collapsed on the spot.

“Yeah, me neither.” Lance scratches the back of his head and kicks at the floor. “Mind if I come with?” It’s the last thing Keith wants in the world, but Lance seems earnest and well meaning so Keith tries to take the Shiro route and reigns in his irritation.

Patience yields focus.

“Uh, sure.” He’s not sure if he manages sincerity but Lance at least doesn’t seem put off. They make their way towards the training deck in awkward silence. Keith zones out and starts timing his blinks to when they pass under the teal glow of the light fixtures.

“Um,” Lance clears his throat awkwardly. Keith snaps out of his daze to look curiously to the boy beside him. “I just wanted to say thank you. For today.” Lance scratches at the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “If it hadn’t been for your help things could’ve gotten ugly. You really saved my bacon. So. Thanks.” It takes a moment for Keith to even pinpoint the moment in his sleep deprived memory, and a moment longer to realize Lance is actually thanking him for it.

“Oh. Uh. No problem.” Gratitude is not something Keith is familiar or comfortable with, but he can appreciate how much it probably took Lance to express thanks to him of all people. “You’d have done the same for me so...”

The conversation judders to a halt. Keith always finds discussions like this uncomfortable. Things are only ever easy with Shiro.

“I mean anyone would have been overwhelmed, right? They were coming at me from all sides!” As he defends himself Lance’s gaze slides over to Keith. “You don’t think.... Shiro thinks I messed up, do you?” 

Keith blinks. “Why would he?”

“Nevermind, nevermind. It’s stupid.” Keith raises an eyebrow and Lance ducks under his gaze. “Anyway, here we are!” His fake cheer rings false even to Keith, but he lets it go and passes through the training room door Lance has propped open.

It’s late when Keith finally slips into Shiro’s room, fully exhausted. He toes his boots off and shucks his jacket as he stumbles to the shower on jelly legs. He spares a glance for the lump of Shiro asleep under the blanket, his heart giving a delicate flutter of affection at the sight.

He lets the stream of hot water loosen his muscles, undoing the knots across his back and shoulders. He stands under the water for a long time before he starts washing up. He’s just started on his hair when a rush of cool air has him looking over his shoulder at the door. Shiro steps into the spacious shower cavity behind him. Keith faces the spray again and works the suds in his hair into a lather. He feels Shiro pressing in behind him.

“You didn’t wake me up.”

“I wanted to let you sleep.” The flesh fingers of Shito’s left hand massage along his scalp and Keith abandons the job to him, unwinding under the soothing pressure.

“I thought you were coming right here.”

“I was.” Shiro has rinsed his hair and begun moving his hands lower down his body, working into the tightness along his back. He hums at the sensation. “Lance caught up with me so I said I was going to train. He decided to join me.” 

Shiro snorts, skimming his nose along the line of Keith’s nape. “And how’d that go?”

Keith grunts. He feels the low fire of arousal stoking to life low in his belly at Shiro’s persistent caresses. “I tried to teach him disarming moves.” Lance had been surprisingly patient about it. Keith, less so. He can still feel the burning throb in his wrist from one of Lance’s sparse successes. “A waste of our time honestly.”

Shiro hums, pressing the breadth of his body more fully against Keith’s. He can feel that he’s already getting hard. His arms snake around Keith’s waist.

“I missed you here.”

“I’ll bet you did.” Shiro pushes more forcefully against him, crowding Keith into the wet tiles with his considerable bulk. He’s pressing kisses up his neck and down his jaw when he withdraws.

“Do you have to use such hot water Keith? I’m getting scalded over here.” Keith huffs, both at the new distance between their bodies and the comment.

“How am I supposed to relax in a cold shower?”

“It’s too _hot_.” Keith gives him a wry look over his shoulder. Shiro is pouting, bangs plastered pathetically to his forehead.

“Really?” Shiro pouts harder. Keith heaves a put upon sigh.

“One of these days I’m going to let everyone know what a whiny baby you are, and then your secrets will be exposed. You will lose all respect.” He begrudgingly obliges and turns the heat down.

Shiro slides forward to press his chest along Keith’s spine once again. His thick arms come up to squeeze them even closer and Keith feels sparks of arousal lighting him from within.

“See?” Shiro says, sucking a mark into Keith’s shoulder. He licks over what will surely be a bruise by tomorrow. “Isn’t this much better.” Shiro has one hand twisting around a nipple and the other rubs down his sides, his stomach, massaging along the crease of his thigh. Every one of Keith’s nerves is attuned to the movement of Shiro’s hands and mouth.

Keith’s breath is already coming in ragged pants. He has to brace an arm against the shower wall to keep his balance. Shiro’s hand wraps around his hardened dick and Keith groans deeply at the touch. It’s been too long since they’ve had this kind of time together.

“I’ve been thinking of you.” Shiro’s breath is hot and Keith shudders, even in the warm steam. His right hand pumps him too slow to give him the kind of friction he needs and he chokes down the embarrassing sound rising in his throat.

“I’m right here,” he gasps out. “I’m always right here.” He doesn’t have enough pressure and their position prevents him from doing anything about it. Shiro tightens his grip and Keith lets out a whine. The hot curve of Shiro’s cock pressing into the cleft of his ass cheeks and Keith is starved for it. He mouths lightly at the sensitive skin behind Keith’s ear. Keith is feeling tortured both by Shiro’s touches and his inability to touch him in return. He gropes behind him at Shiro’s hip. They’re pressed too tightly together for him to get a hand on Shiro’s dick but he reads his intent.

Shiro doesn’t make him wait, impatient himself after Keith’s delay. He gives Keith’s hardened nipple a loving flick before bringing the hand around to cup Keith’s ass, kneading the flesh. Keith moans helplessly and uses his leverage against the wall to push back into him. 

The hand disappears briefly but Shiro keeps Keith locked in position under the spray with his weight. Keith grips uselessly at Shiro’s hip, his side. His stroking is still not enough but suddenly Shiro’s hand is returning, slick and probing against Keith’s hole.

“ _Yes_ ,” Keith groans into the tile as a finger hooks inside, the sound reverberating inside the shower. 

“You like that baby?” He prods deeper and slides another finger in alongside the first. His right arm wraps around Keith’s waist to keep him steady as he begins to pump and twist his fingers. 

“Shiro, _please_.” Keith brings his spare hand around to continue stroking along his dick, hips making shallow thrusts to meet Shiro’s hand. “Please, give it to me now.” He can’t wait and he has no shame in begging. Not for this.

Shiro presses kisses into his shoulders and continues the steady rocking of his hand. He slides in a third finger. He murmurs something against the side of Keith’s jaw, but the sound of it is lost over the beating of the water and the scraping breaths leaving Keith’s gaping mouth.

Even with the fullness of three of Shiro’s sturdy fingers inside him it’s not enough. Shiro opens him with the familiarity of long held practice and eventually he’s circling around that bundle of nerves inside that light him up from within and has Keith heaving gasping breaths. He tries to collect himself enough to ask Shiro to get inside him already but he is relentless and Keith can’t catch his breath.

“Sh-Shiro!” It comes out reedy and high. “Shiro, Shiro.” His name is all he manages but blessedly Shiro gets the message. 

“I’ve got you baby.” His fingers withdraw and for a moment the emptiness is agonizing but then Shiro is lining himself up and pressing in. They both groan at the thick slide of skin against skin. Shiro presses in until they’re flush together. He stays perfectly still once he settles, just to make Keith squirm. Keith tries to thrust his hips but the arm braced across him holds him in place.

He gives out a low whine. “Shiro, Shiro come _on_.” Shiro chuckles and Keith might actually _die_. He slaps at the wall in frustration, the smack echoing.

Shiro bends into him, forcing him further under the spray of the shower and into the wall. “Tell me what you want baby.” Keith doesn’t have the patience for the teasing, and he is absolutely shameless in his reply.

“Fuck me. Fuck me Shiro, _please_.” The lack of friction is growing unbearable. Shiro needs to _move_.

“Anything for you baby.” Shiro lays a kiss on the back of his neck and then begins to snap his hips into him with such force that Keith has to abandon touching himself to brace both arms against the wall. They’re surrounded by the sound of Keith’s moans and Shiro’s grunts bouncing off the tiles.

“God you feel so good.” Shiro leans one arm against the wall for balance and the other snakes around to tug at Keith’s weeping cock in time with his thrusts. He pounds him so deeply that Keith is helpless to do anything but take it and keen into the damp tiles. The condensation makes them slippery and his fingers scrabble uselessly as Shiro shifts the angle to drive in somehow deeper in a way that has Keith moaning on every hitching exhale. “You’re so good for me baby,” he says against Keith’s ear. He whimpers.

The shifting of his hips to meet Shiro’s thrust and into the hand moving on his dick has him dooling open mouthed into the shower wall. Shiro is shielding him from the bulk of the shower’s spray with his shoulders but the stray drops and steam only make him feel more overheated. He isn’t going to last much longer. Keith slides a hand up to grip around Shiro’s wrist. His mouth gapes and he can’t break from his panting to so much as mutter Shiro’s name. He comes into the tiles with a strangled moan, and after a few more pumps of his hips Shiro follows him.

Keith’s breathing is still open-mouthed and ragged. Shiro slides out of him and Keith’s body is wracked by another series of jerks in aftershock. He pants into the tiles, resting with his cheek pressed against them. His body feels like gelatin. Finally he pushes himself upright and turns in Shiro’s arms. There is a flush running down his chest and the water is glistening on his wet shoulders and pecs.

He is a vision.

He brings his hands up to cradle Keith’s face with the utmost tenderness, leaning in to press kisses along his brow. Keith lets himself be held for a moment, and feels settled for the first time in weeks.

“I needed that.” It draws a chuckle out of Shiro.

“Figured your offer for a joint shower was still withstanding.”

“For you?” Keith tilts his head up and finishes his phrase against Shiro’s mouth “Always.”

They wash themselves dutifully and stumble out of the shower to settle into bed. In the morning Keith will feel the wear of a late night after a long day, but wrapped up in Shiro, pliant and relaxed from both the sex and the shower, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  
  


Waking up next to Shiro is an unquantifiable luxury. Keith thinks of all the nights he laid awake unable to believe that Shiro was gone, obliterated in a crash on the other side of the galaxy. It’s still early, but Shiro has beaten him to waking. Their gazes meet and Keith is unable to resist the urge to press a kiss to the corner of Shiro’s mouth. Shiro brings a hand up to stroke through Keith’s mussy hair. His head on Shiro’s shoulder, arms wrapped around him, Keith considers letting himself fall back asleep.

“I miss this,” Shiro whispers in the quiet. “I miss you. I miss you when you’re standing right there and I know I can’t hold you like this.” Shiro’s words are breathed into his hair and Keith tightens his hold on him.

The desperation in Shiro’s tone incites a sharp ache in his chest.

“I know,” Keith whispers mournfully into his bare skin. “Me too.” They lie together, entwined like two shoelaces snugly tied. They’re both aware of all the reasons their relationship is relegated to stolen kisses and sparse private moments of intimacy; a team dependent on their ability to trust each other and work perfectly in sync can't' risk being destabilized by a romantic relationship, especially given how hard it was for them to get to a point where they could consistently form Voltron in the first place. There are millions of lives being jeopardized in this war, and as much as Keith’s heart screams different the love of two people has to take a backseat. The knowledge that he would scorch everything to the ground in an instant if Shiro so much as asked doesn’t change the fact that they have a back breaking number of people depending on them.

It still sucks though.

They lay entwined until they are forced to rise and start the day. Standing side by side in the bathroom, brushing their teeth in tandem leaves Keith yearning for the stability of a mundane life. The quiet intimacy of waking each day beside the person he loves most in the universe, and sharing a simple daily routine had never appealed to him before Shiro. Now it seems like the loveliest and most intangible pipe-dream.

An infiltration mission is the topic of the day’s breakfast. The meal is a Hunk original that reminds Keith of hotdogs, if hotdogs were blue and the consistency of creamed corn.

“Yesterday’s victory was an important foothold in fighting back against the Empire, but we still have more to do. We need reconnaissance on the hold they have over Isroj, and what their defenses are so we can plan how we will mount our attack. They already know about our presence in the galaxy so they’ll be on high alert.”

Keith sucks his hotdog mush through his teeth like gelatin instead of chewing, nodding along as the princess speaks. He can feel the bruises Shiro left along the juncture of his neck and shoulder the night before humming under the fabric of his clothes.

“Ideally we would wait for Blade assistance, but I feel it is best to strike fast while their attention is still on the loss of Tagazbri. What I propose is this: We send you in, cloaked in the green lion and you sneak into the communication hub on Isroj’s moon. They won’t expect us at such a small target. From there we should be able to discover the defensive protocols that are in place and plant a device that we will be able to activate remotely to shut off their communications entirely when we make our attack. Pidge, is your EMP ready?”

Pidge nods, pushing up her glasses and pulling out the chunky bit of machinery from their last meeting. “Hunk helped me with the fine tuning, but this bad boy should be able to knock out their entire tower, as well as the systems of any ships flying too close.” She grins smugly, and she and Hunk bump fists.

Shiro leans forward to contribute. “The idea is to get in and out unseen. The less prepared they are for our eventual attack, the harder we can hit them.”

“Sounds pretty straightforward to me.” Lance mimes aiming his bayard with his spoon, nearly painting Keith with a blue splatter. “We fry their signal, then Voltron comes in and pow pow! Saves the day.” He leans casually against the back of his chair. “They won’t know what hit them.”

“Nearly a trillion hertz of electromagnetic radiation, that’s what will hit them,” Hunk says eagerly.

“Yeah!” Lance agrees. “And the bottom of Voltron’s boot!” As they carry on Shiro leans his leg over to press against Keith’s. He lets the contact ground him and smiles into his plate. He snakes his left hand under the table to rest on Shiro’s knee. They stay like that, with their private moment of contact, for the rest of the meal, until everyone starts to get up to prepare for the day’s mission.  
  


Green’s cloaking gets them to the moon’s solitary and sprawling communication center without a hitch. Shiro gets them in the building through an employee access door along the shadowed side of the facility and they’re in. They crouch in the T-shaped hallway near the door. Shiro peaks around the corners to check that the coast is clear,

“Alright team, let’s split up. Pidge with me, Hunk, Lance, you go with Keith.”

“Why do I have to get stuck with Keith?” Keith rolls his eyes.

“Keith and I are the only ones who can open the doors,” Shiro says, raising his right arm. “And we need Pidge and Hunk to connect to the terminals. Pidge and I will plant the EMP in the engine room near the antenna. You guys need to try to find a terminal that has defensive data on it, or anything about flight patterns and supply routes, and download everything you can onto the drive.” Hunk twirls the small data stick in his fingers, nearly dropping it before stuffing it sheepishly back into his pocket. Lance grumbles under his breath

“Keith.” Shiro’s gaze catches on Keith’s. With the other paladins around them there’s too much they can’t say. Their eye contact is charged. Keith tries to say ‘I love you’ with his eyes. The uptick of Shiro’s mouth tells him his message is received and reciprocated. “Good luck out there.”

Keith nods. “Be careful.” Then he’s turning his back and dashing down the corridor, the legs of Voltron at his heels.

  
  


“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Lance’s voice grates at Keith’s nerves. The facility is labyrinthine and the dull walls and soft purple lighting make all the corridors look the same

_Patience yields focus._

“No,” Keith answers frustration lacing his tone. “Believe it or not this is my first time in a galra communication hub.”

“You don’t have some kind of, innate sense for where things would be? Like a standard galra layout or something?” Hunk asks. Keith huffs another breath, lining his spine against a wall and peering around a corner. He flattens himself and motions for Lance and Hunk to do the same as two sentry bots march by.

Keith waits a couple beats from their passing before he motions to continue and replies. “Just because I’m galra doesn’t mean I know what their floor plans are like.” They stop in front of a door labelled in galra script, locked with a hand scanner. Keith listens at the door for signs of activity inside, and at the continued silence presses his palm into the scanner to let them through.

“I’m just saying it would be really convenient if you had, like, a galra instinct. ‘Left is the best way to go’, you know? Something like that.”

“Yeah.” Lance chimes in. “Where’s your alien secret sense mumbo jumbo when we need it?” One wall of the room they entered is lined with screens, showing scenes both inside the facility and of the quiet airspace around it. On the other is a large command terminal, unoccupied. Keith ignores Lance and unlocks the terminal so Hunk can get to work.

“I wonder why no one is here. We probably don’t have much time before we have company. Let’s act fast. Lance, watch the door.” Lance marches to the doorway grumpily, his bayard blaster aimed loosely towards it. Pidge’s decoder device has already gotten Hunk past the security measures guarding the hub’s data and files are flashing past as they’re copied to the thumb drive. Keith watches curiously over his shoulder as images of the farming operations in place on Isroj blink by. The primary livestock on the planet looks, to Keith, like an armadillo had babies with a jellyfish, with armored shells and squishy looking tendrils. Hunk digs deeper, pulling up information about the inner workings of the galra occupation on Isroj. Lance grumbles under his breath about getting the boring jobs.

Keith wanders over to the wall of security feeds, scanning the numerous screens. He keeps an eye out for anyone coming their way, but it’s hard to tell when the halls all look the same. He tries to spot Pidge and Shiro. Despite the size of the building, the communication center seems to rely almost entirely on droids to operate, with just a sparse staff of galra. Keith hunts for a screen with a living breathing person on it. He zeros in on two galra caught in conversation. The tops of their faces are obscured by helmets, but they seem to be laughing.

Keith stares into the screen. If it weren’t for the purple tint to their skin, it would look like any kind of casual conversation between coworkers that you could find on Earth. It just seems so... normal.

Before Keith can think about it for too long a cool tinkling of dread drips down his spine and he’s turning away from the monitors.

“Guys I think-” He’s cut off as the door to the room opens and Lance straightens abruptly to level his blaster in the face of a thin galra almost a foot taller than him. The sound of Lance’s shot will be sure to alert their presence.

“What the-” before Lance or the galra soldier have time to react Keith is in motion. Three bounds and he is across the room. He leaps and drives his knee into the glara’s chin, knocking them both to the ground with Keith on top. The soldier is out cold.

Keith straightens up and catches the limp body under the arms.

“Hey!” says Lance indignantly. “I totally had him!” 

“We need to go. Hunk, are you finished?” Keith begins to drag the dense frame of the unconscious galra behind the control panel. He looks down and then back up at Lance. “And this is a woman.”

Lance makes an indignant squawk but Hunk cuts him off before he can retort. “Done! Let’s get back to the green lion before anyone else finds out we were here.” They scurry out of the room and back through the hallways they came in, wary of a raised alert. It’s clear they’ve taken a wrong turn when the corridor they’re following opens up to a hangar filled with Empire crafts. The ceiling is high to allow space for the ships to maneuver, and an entire wall of the room is occupied by a loading bay, sealed shut but for a small gap along the bottom that ventilates the space.

“This is stupid,” Lance says. “Everything looks the same. Let’s just find an exit and we can head back to Green by following the outside of the building.”

“It’s too open, we’ll get caught.” Keith catches Lance on the shoulder. “Let’s head back and find another way.”

“The longer we wait the more time that galra lady has to wake up and let everyone know we’re here, and I don’t know about you, but I prefer my butt not shot full of holes by laser guns. There’s a door right there, let’s just _go through it_ and we can be on our merry way.”

Keith opens his mouth to argue but a robotic voice sounds behind them. “Intruders, halt.” Keith whirls and drives his bayard through its chest before it can say any more.

“We need to leave, _now_.” Before the words are even out of his mouth a huddle of sentries is rounding the corner behind them. The longer they stay the more they risk putting the entire operation in jeopardy.

“Run.” Keith, Hunk, and Lance take off into the hangar, plasma fire dogging behind them. As they run more sentries working in the hangar are drawn to the commotion. They’re forced to duck for cover behind a small transport vessel.

“Oh, this is bad. This is very bad.” Hunk is visibly sweating inside his helmet.

“Calm down, all we have to do is get to the green lion.” The ship they’re crouched against rocks with the force of the blasts it’s taking. “Let’s go with Lance’s plan and try to get outside. We’ll take different routes to thin their fire, then regroup at the exit. Lance, you flank the right, Hunk try to give him covering fire from the left side. I’ll head down the center aisle.” The other boys nod, and after a shuddering inhale from Hunk, they countdown and part ways.

Keith comes under heavy fire almost immediately. Hunk staves them off to the best of his ability but Keith chose the most open route. A blast catches him in the ankle and he pitches toward the ground. He uses the momentum to roll behind another ship. The paladin armor protected him from any kind of serious damage but the affected ankle throbs in time with his rapid heartbeat.

It sounds like Lance and Hunk are giving as good as they’re getting but they’re still vastly outnumbered. Keith tries to catch his breath and orient himself toward the exit. The longer they stay the more damage they do to their chances of launching a successful attack later. 

Keith hears a scraping from his right and whirls around, bayard at the ready.

“Wha-?” It’s a galra mechanic, rising from underneath the belly of the ship. Keith hadn’t noticed him, hunched under the hulking machine. This is the kind of mistake that costs you. At his full height he towers over Keith and does not hesitate to swing the long wrench-like tool in his hands at Keith’s head.

The blow catches him across the cheekbone and even with the helmet in place Keith briefly sees stars. He’s quick to recover but the enemy soldier already has the blaster on his belt trained on Keith. With a roll of his shoulders he avoids a shot aimed for his chest and pelts forward. He catches the soldier under the elbow with a sharp jab of his bayard’s hilt and hears the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage. Continuing his motion he whirls the blade around and claps the flat of it along the galra’s helmet. The resounding ringing leaves the soldier stunned and off guard, but he’s quick to recover. The only thing that prevents the short dagger from piercing into his ribs is Keith’s quick spin to the side. It still clips him and leaves a stringing line against his side. It also brings him closer to his foe, who takes the advantage for what it is and grabs at Keith.

Keith lets himself be pulled in, thinking fast around the throbbing in his ankle and head and the searing pain along his side. The pain in his side roars as he flips his legs up around the soldier’s neck. He arches backward and uses their combined momentum to flip them and send them sailing to the ground.

“Keith! Where are you?” Through the unrelenting barrage of blaster shots Lance’s voice rings out from the direction of the exit. Keith scrambles up and away from the mechanic, but he grabs him by his injured ankle as he tries to dart away. He lands hard. With a grunt he raises his head to be greeted by the sight of advancing drones marching into the tight space between crafts.

He’s cornered.

The door to the hanger whines loudly as it is hauled further open. There is an accompanying shriek of metal.

He whirls the blade of his bayard, slicing at the ankles of the sentries as he hauls himself upright. They are soon replaced by more. He can see the blasts from both Hunk and Lance’s bayards picking them off but it will never be enough to clear him a path. The soldier at his back has risen too, a looming threat.

Keith dives under the ship to his left and rolls beneath it, surfacing on the other side and sprinting full tilt towards the exit. 

Pidge’s voice crackles over the short distance comms their helmets. “Where are you guys? We’ve been waiting in the green lion. We need to get out of here!”

“We’ve just run into a little-” Lance grunts and the sounds of laser fire redouble. “We ran into a little trouble. We’re waiting for Keith.”

Keith is hurtling towards the exit, lungs heaving.

“What’s going on?” Even distantly through the comms and tinged with worry, Shiro’s voice is familiar and comforting.

“Go! Go, go!” Keith doesn’t slow his hurtling pace as he comes up on Lance and Hunk. As a unit they hurtle through the loading bay door. Keith dives to the side off the ramp and slams his hand on the control panel. The massive door begins to creak shut. He slashes the console. Hopefully it will keep them from getting it back open.

The sound of blasting doesn’t dull as the door seals shut and Keith realizes they’ve caught the attention of a patrol guard.

They’re ruthless in their assault but with the large door sealed shut their numbers aren’t as overwhelming. Keith is pulling his bayard from the chest of another sentry when something heavy rocks the ground, nearly sending paladins and drones to the ground alike. Looking around reveals nothing.

The invisible form of the green lion has come to collect them.

“Come on! Get on board! This cloak isn’t going to last forever!” Though they can’t see it, the visors on the paladin suits pinpoint the lion’s location. Keith can feel the adrenaline wearing off. His muscles are screaming as he pushes them. He gives the nearest sentry a wild kick that sends it spinning into the approaching guards behind him. They tumble like bowling pins. Keith turns and sprints towards the hidden lion. Lance stands near Green’s open mouth, picking off drones with surgeon-like precision. Hunk is somewhere behind him, blasting his way towards their ride. Keith doesn’t risk a glance over his shoulder to check. He’s closing the distance, spare yards separating him from the lion.

A shot in the back drives him into the dirt. 

“Keith!” Shiro’s voice is dripped in anguish. He must be watching through the windshield.

The breath is knocked completely from his lungs. Keith can’t force himself upright. He wastes precious seconds gaping like a fish and trying to remember how to breathe. He doesn’t feel any pain yet, just a sensation of tingle to the left of his spine. He’s just made it to his forearms when Hunk scruffs him like a kitten and hauls him the rest of the way into the waiting mouth of the green lion.

They’re gasping and panting as Green charges away from the agitation on the moon’s surface. The sound of quick footsteps pounding down the corridor greets them.

Shiro is already running towards him before Keith can fully stagger to his feet. His own helmet already off. 

“Keith!”

He crashes into Keith and knocks him off balance, steading their joined weight before they can fall. He prises Keith’s helmet off and draws him into a deep kiss. Keitch’s body is one aching bruise but he still melts into it.

Lance whistles. “Well that’s new.” Hunk straightens at his side.

“No,” Shiro says, coming up for air. “It’s really not.”


End file.
